


You Promised Me Pancakes

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blowjobs, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Pancakes, kitchen nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 23:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11839653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Flint just wants to sleep in; Silver just wants his pancakes.





	You Promised Me Pancakes

There’s something nuzzling softly at his thigh. Flint ignores it. It’s his day off. He has every intention of sleeping till noon, something he only does when he has the rare occasion to do so. Today is that day. It’s Sunday. He doesn’t have to get up. He can stay in bed as long as he wants. Nothing is going to make him move from this bed. Nothing.

The nuzzling continues.

He reaches down finally to gently push whatever it is away and comes into contact with a handful of curls.

Oh.

“You promised me pancakes.” Silver murmurs against his thigh, pressing another kiss into the thick muscle of his leg.

Flint keeps his eyes firmly closed. If he opens them, if he sees Silver the way he undoubtedly looks right now, all bright eyed and hungry mouthed and tousled curls, he will be swayed and this morning he will not be fucking swayed.

“A stack of pancakes with whipped cream and fresh raspberries.” Silver licks a stripe down his thigh, making Flint’s skin shiver in delight. “And powdered sugar.”

_Powdered sugar and whipped cream?_ Flint groans at the thought, No wonder he ends spending so much time at the fucking gym. Not to mention it’s just not a good culinary choice. You either pick one or the other, but not both. He doesn’t respond though, he’s not doing this. He doesn’t take the bait.

“Maybe even chocolate chips.” Silver licks closer to his groin and Flint curses himself for bothering to wear pajama shorts to bed.

Not that the brief obstruction of clothing has ever stopped Silver.

“Perhaps even a cherry on top.” Silver murmurs and presses his mouth to the front of Flint’s shorts, sucking wetly at the head of his cock.

Flint can’t help the groan escaping his mouth, his fingers tangling in Silver’s hair. He feels the heat of the satisfied smirk Silver’s wearing right now against his dick, even if he doesn’t see it.

Silver licks the head through the damp material and then sucks at it teasingly. “You promised.”

“And I said I was going to sleep till noon.” Flint growls. He’s not getting up at nine fucking am on a Sunday morning damnit, no matter how much he loves Silver.

And he does, oh how he does. Some mornings he can’t believe this is his life, his apartment with the windows that let in all the light, and his bookshelves and his bed where Silver sleeps beside him. It’s still officially Flint’s bed, his apartment, but Silver’s been living there for six months now, it’s theirs. They both know it.

His fingers curl affectionately in Silver’s hair. “Go back to sleep, you little shit.”

“I’m hungry.” Silver licks along the length of him and Flint bites back another groan.

“There’s some…” Flint tries to remember what’s in the kitchen, but at the moment his thoughts are entirely consumed by Silver’s skillful fingers sliding along the waistband of his shorts and tugging them down to free his cock.

Silver gives a little sight of contentment and then there’s silence. His hands rest on Flint’s thighs, he’s right fucking there, what is he waiting for?

Flint can see it, even if he still has his eyes closed. He waits and Silver waits and the bead of pre-come rising at the tip of Flint’s cock drips slowly, maddeningly down his shaft.

Flint’s free hand digs into the mattress, still waiting. The other hand, the one touching Silver, rubs a little closer to his scalp and Silver makes a soft noise in his throat. Flint grins inwardly and does it again, just barely caressing him with his fingertips.

“You asshole.” Silver breathes and promptly takes him in his mouth.

Flint’s hips arch slightly at the sudden onslaught of heat and then Silver’s hands press him firmly back down, holding him there, as he sucks at him. The long, devouring motions of his throat make Flint’s balls tighten embarrassingly quick and then Silver pulls off to lick down the underside of his aching cock, right to his balls.

“Jesus.” Flint hisses as Silver sucks at them. His fingers tangle tighter in Silver’s hair as Silver’s tongue teases him into an agonized state of arousal.

It’s around this point that Flint gives in and opens his eyes. Silver’s mass of dark curls spread over his crotch is a sight he can’t resist, no matter how much he tries.

Silver looks directly at him then, and slides Flint’s cock all the way back inside, his eyes latched onto Flint’s holding him with his gaze as much as his hands.

Flint’s breath draws tighter, just short shallow pants as Silver’s mouth demands his utter surrender and he gives in at last here too, broad back arching up from the bed as he comes at last.

Silver swallows it all, holds him until his cock is spent and still. Then he pulls off and flops on his back beside Flint.

“Still hungry.” Silver mutters.

Flint just strokes his curls and smirks.

“If you won’t cook for me, I only have one choice.” Silver says dramatically and slides off the bed to go out into the hall.

Flint lies there lazily content and sated, until he has time to think about what Silver said.

“You’re not actually trying to cook in there, are you?” He calls drowsily.

There’s no answer and he tries to tell himself that even Silver isn’t that stupid. They’d established early on that Flint was the one who cooked and Silver was the one who was naked in the kitchen. That’s just the way it works.

Silver can wait a little while longer for his pancakes. Flint rolls over and buries his face in the pillows. But they smell like Silver and his stupid shampoo, some Tropical Ocean Breeze shit that should make Flint nauseous, but instead just conjures up images of Silver. Silver laughing across the breakfast table, Silver grinning at him in the shower, naked and wet and just happy, Silver smiling down at him as he rides Flint’s dick.

Flint groans silently.

There’s the sound of pans rattling and then something heavy lands on the floor with a thump followed by a muttered, “Shit.”

“What’re you doing in there?” Flint’s voice is half muffled by the pillow.

“I said I was hungry.” Silver calls back, a faint touch of irritation in his voice now.

Flint rolls over and stares at the ceiling. He has options here, he knows that. He can stay in bed and wait to see what happens. But he really likes this apartment and he doesn’t want to move just because Silver almost burns the place down.

But at the same time, it’s Silver.

Silver who had showed up on his doorstep, and admitted that he’d loved him, that he’d always loved him and it had just taken a long fucking time to admit. Silver who had looked at him with no hope in his eyes even though he _had_ had to have possessed just a shred of hope left to even knock on Flint’s door. Flint had simply cupped Silver’s face in his hands and kissed him right there on the doorstep, feeling Silver sigh happily in relief against his chest. That day they hadn’t wasted any more fucking time.

Does he really want to waste any more of their precious time now that they’re finally together?

Flint sighs and sits up. One of these days he’s going to be comfortable enough to stay in bed, and let Silver eat fucking cold cereal. One of these days he’s not going to worry that this won’t last. One of these days he really will sleep till noon.

But not today. He gets up, pulling his shorts back up, grimacing at the damp patch at the front, thanks to Silver’s saliva and his own pre-come.

He goes down the hall and into the kitchen.

There’s half a bag of flour spilled on the floor and Silver’s just sitting on the kitchen counter, drinking orange juice out of the carton.

He’s completely naked, giving Flint a full view of the family jewels.

Silver raises an eyebrow over the orange juice. “Thought you were sleeping till noon.” He tips the orange juice back further, taking another drink.

“Yeah, well. I didn’t want to wake up to a skeleton lying on the floor, one hand stretched pitifully towards the fridge.” Flint walks carefully around the flour and comes over to him, stepping right between Silver’s legs, laying his hands on his knees.

“Were you really going to try to make pancakes on your own?”

“There’s a recipe on the back of the box.” Silver says indignantly. “I can read you know.”

“I do know.” Flint leans in to kiss him. Silver tastes like orange juice, unsurprisingly, and also pleasingly of Flint.

Silver slings his arms around Flint’s neck, still holding the carton in one hand. “Does this mean you’re going to make me food?”

“Yes.” Flint presses another kiss to his mouth. “I’m going to make you food and then we’re going to shower, and later when I take a nap, you’re going to put those reading skills to valuable use and not wake me up.” His hands slide round to cup Silver’s ass. “Is that understood?”

“Mmm,” Silver licks his lips and grins at him. “I’m sure I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” Flint says dryly.

He lifts Silver up and carries him over to the table where he puts him down. “Just sit there while I see if we have any more flour.”

“There’s the mix.” Silver starts.

Flint snorts. “We do not make pancakes from a mix in this house.” He informs his boyfriend loftily. “I don’t know why you even brought that box home.”

“Mostly so you’d do that cute scrunched up thing with your nose.” Silver takes another swig of orange juice.

Flint starts to argue that he does not do that, but it’s a lost cause arguing with Silver over such things and he knows it.

Instead he sets to mixing up a batch of pancakes while Silver sits there offering helpful commentary and tips that make no sense at all. Nobody puts rum in pancakes.

Flint simply ignores him and makes the pancakes the same way as he always does. Like he does every Sunday morning.

Later, before his nap, but after washing the dishes, they’ll have that shower and Flint knows how that will go too. Silver bracing himself against the wall, water dancing over his skin as Flint’s cock slides into him, moving together faster and faster until Silver makes that helpless little sound that means he’s coming and Flint kisses his mouth, capturing it, keeping it on his tongue until he comes as well.

But for now there’s pancakes and lazy sunshine and the taste of orange juice kisses.

 


End file.
